


like a stealth jet

by SafelyCapricious



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, Gen, Outer Space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4019884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been a truly epically bad month. </p><p>Which meant that the fact that it was ending with Jemma stuck in space jail was kind of fitting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like a stealth jet

**Author's Note:**

> So this was for the Biospecialist prompt: "I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people."
> 
> I failed? I really don't think it's biospecialist, hence the lack of tag. 
> 
> But I also really enjoy this so I'm posting it anyways, with the agreement that the original prompter can re-prompt if they'd like me to try for something shippy.

To say that Jemma was having a horrid month would be a massive understatement. Inhumans had attacked them, she’d had to stitch one of her closest friends up because no one could apparently remember that she wasn’t that kind of doctor, she’d accidentally agreed to date her best friend out of worry, _and_ a giant alien rock had eaten her.

It had been a truly epically bad month.

Which meant that the fact that it was ending with her stuck in space jail was kind of fitting.

(Okay, it could’ve been worse. The band of kind-of-outlaws who had picked her up moments after the rock had spit her out into the void of space could’ve not done that and she could have been dead. But, well, if she were dead would she have cared?)

There had also only been about an hour between when they’d picked her up and when they’d all gotten arrested – she wasn’t entirely sure what she was arrested for. She was absolutely certain she didn’t have a space record, unless someone had been impersonating her.

In space.

She fought down a panicked giggle and rested her forehead against her knees. Then sighed into the cradle of her legs for good measure.

“You are full of shit, Jemma Simmons,” said the only one of her companions who was both humanoid and not a color with a ridiculous Crayola name.

Jemma sighed again and ignored the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the yelp he gave before a soothing female voice chided, “Do not be rude, Quill. She is very distraught.”

“Motherfuck—look, I’m sure she’s distraught, but that doesn’t give her any right to lie. Never have I ever is an honored Earth tradition, _as she should well know_ , and look at her, there is no way she’s killed someone!” Quill said. Jemma looked up in time to see him pointing vigorously at her, and then leering for good measure.

She sighed again and suddenly her vision was filled with the tree person. And this was now officially the weirdest part for her. Because though her ears heard him say, “I am Groot?” she somehow knew he was asking if she was cold, which meant she was absolutely contaminated from whatever the rock had done to her and when (it was a when, not an if!) she got back home the number of tests she’d have to conduct on herself would be frightening.

She smiled and laid her hand against his – was it a he? Did tree people have gender? Oh dear, she really should figure that out – arm, “I’m fine, I’ve just been having a very bad few weeks. Thank you for asking.” She shifted her gaze and found three sets of wide eyes staring at her, and one narrowed set glaring.

“You are not some lousy human! Lousy humans don’t speak smart like us – these numb-nuts don’t understand a word. So who the fuck are you?” the raccoon thing – Rocket, she thought – said at a loud pitch, pointing an accusing finger at her.

She slouched more and rubbed the bridge of her nose before saying, "I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with all of you people."

“I do not like liars,” rumbled the one who had tattoos in some shade of crimson Jemma wasn’t sure how to define and looked like he might be related to The Rock. (He had introduced himself but it had been early on and all she’d gotten was ‘The Destroyer’ and she wasn’t sure if that was an actual name or a title and if it would be rude to call him that – but too much time had passed and now she couldn’t ask.)

She looked to the ceiling for guidance for a moment before trying the introduction that she’d attempted four times before they’d interrupted her – the most recently time by a forced game of never have I ever. She decided to forgo the lengthy one – they didn’t need to know at what ages she got her doctorates and it’s not likely any of them were going to know what xenobiology even was. “I’m Jemma Simmons of Earth,” she sighed and corrected, “Of Terra. I had contact with a Kree artifact that may or may not have effected me in some way, but to my knowledge am completely human. And I absolutely killed someone, but not the person I was hoping to kill, if that helps.”

“I am Groot,” said Groot. Jemma offered him a smile, glad that at least one of the group she was stuck in space jail with believed her.

“Who were you trying to kill, young Terran female?” asked the body builder.

She didn’t get the chance to respond, however, before a voice she was absolutely not expecting said, “Me,” from outside the cage.

She was on her feet and reaching for where the blaster that she had ‘borrowed’ from Rocket had been on her hip before her mind could even process that the situation made no sense. But sure enough, there stood a gently smirking Ward leaning against the outside of their cell.

“I am Groot,” rumbled her friend as he stepped in front of her.

She appreciated the support and laid a hand against his back and said, “Thank you.”

Ward scoffed, “What, did you get a masters in Tree on your little space walkabout?”

Rocket pulled a blaster from somewhere, Jemma really didn’t want to think too heavily on where, and the crimson tattooed one stepped forward as well. Quill was standing as well, but with his arms crossed and a frown. Gamora was still seated, watching the proceedings warily.

Considering they had declared not an hour earlier that they didn’t trust anyone but themselves, it was a touching display.

She could just see over Groot’s shoulder and around Mr. Crimson Tattoo’s bulk to where Ward was rolling his eyes. “Hell, trust you to get thrown into space jail and end up being their princess. Look Simmons, I’m here on Coulson’s orders – to get you out.”

She scoffed and Mr. Crimson Tattoo rumbled, “She does not want to go with you.”

“I am Groot!” Groot added.

“What he said,” Rocket agreed as he did something to his blaster.

Quill approached the grate with raised palms and said, “Look buddy, if Jemma here really tried to kill you,” Jemma chimed in that she had and Quill shot her a smile and a wink over his shoulder before continuing, “Than there is no way we’re just going to hand her over to you. That’s all kindsa stupid, and not the fun kind of stupid.”

Ward rolled his eyes again. She still wasn’t used to how sassy he was now – she knew how he’d been on the bus was just a cover but it was always a bit of a surprise.

“That’s great, _buddy_ , but you don’t have a choice. You’re in a cell and I’m with the guards. You don’t owe her anything so just –“ He was interrupted by Groot literally ripping the grating out so there was nothing separating him from her group. She hadn’t even seen his vines creeping over the ceiling. It was very impressive and she told him so as Ward swore until Gamora knocked him out with a roundhouse kick to the head.

Three hours later they were back on Quill’s ship, Ward immobilized by some honestly terrifying bondage that Gamora had skillfully wrapped him with.

Apparently they had _wanted_ to get captured to steal something from the prison. It looked like a box to her, but given her recent history with alien artifacts she wasn’t even thinking about trying to touch it.

Ward still hadn’t woken up. She wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t let Drax, who had used the third person conveniently, throw him out the airlock. All she could blame it on was that he had mentioned Coulson, and though she was pretty sure she was lying there was the very slight off chance that for some reason Ward was working for them again and, well, she did want to go home.

Plus if she could figure out how he’d even gotten here she could go back and shoot him in the meantime.

He just had to wake up first. (He’d stirred when Drax was carrying him back to the ship and Gamora had taken the time to show Jemma how best to knock him out. She had to admit she liked the green woman’s idea of bonding.)

She explained the concept of splinter bombs to Rocket while she waited for him to wake up. It was probably a terrible idea but it made him very happy and she had already grown fond of him.

“The one who is yours to kill is awake now,” said Drax.

Jemma blinked and glanced over. Ward still looked dead to the world to her, but then Rocket was prying his eyes open with pointy fingers and he jerked back reflexively. Gamora nudged her into action. “Good morning, sunshine,” she said and smiled brightly at him.

He glared at her, no longer trying to shake away Rocket’s grip on him. “What the hell, Simmons? I’m here to rescue you.”

She crouched down and shrugged before reaching forward to tap the tip of his nose. “Which is why you aren’t dead. Now convince me Coulson actually sent you.”

He blinked and went a little cross-eyed and Jemma mentally swore that she was going to figure out a way to ship Godiva to outer space for Gamora. But of course it was Ward so he managed to focus and pretend she hadn’t just bopped his nose. “He didn’t exactly give me a code word to convince you. My options were this or Vault D again.”

Jemma frowned at him and crossed her arms. “How did you even get here?”

He frowned at her and wiggled – he really was wrapped up quite well. If they stuck a ribbon on his head and maybe gagged him – Jemma could feel her face heating at the thought of him under her Christmas tree. She shot a suspicious look at Quill’s back in the pilot seat, what had been in her dinner?

“Well, they tried to feed _me_ to that rock of yours, and when that didn’t work Sif brought me up.” He was watching her carefully and she very pointedly didn’t think about Christmas.

She did frown, however. “Wait, how long have I been gone?” By her estimate it had only been a few hours – sixish, now.

He arched an eyebrow at her, “Ten months.”

Her limbs suddenly felt limp and heavy and she sat down gracelessly on the crate behind her. “Oh.”

Groot leaned over her shoulder and asked, “I am Groot?”

She nodded, numbly, and replied, “Yes,” and accepted when Rocket patted her hand in passing without looking at her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another, before looking back at Ward. He was watching her with dark eyes and what looked like compassion – she tried not to believe it. “Ten months?” she asked, voice only shaking a little.

He nodded as best he was able, eyes soft and said, “Ten months. I’ve been looking for you out here for four. I have a device to contact Sif so she can take you home.”

She let out a slow breath and then Quill was leaning over her, hands on her shoulders. “Oh yeah, like she’s going to trust you. How ‘bout we drop you off at the next dirtball we find and we’ll take Jem home?”

“I am Groot!” agreed her ligneous friend.

Jemma couldn’t help but smile. She was still upset that she’d apparently been gone for so long (she honestly didn’t remember anything but the rock dragging her in and then appearing in space, what had happened to her?) but it was nice to know that she’d somehow made friends, somehow. She patted Quill’s hand on her shoulder until he withdrew them and stepped back, before nodding. “Yes, if you’d be willing to take me home, I’d appreciate it. But we should probably bring Ward with us. If there’s somewhere to lock him up, that would be helpful. Although I suppose we could just leave him tied up here. He’s surprisingly resourceful, and I’d prefer not to set him lose on an unsuspecting populace.”

“Or we could kill him,” suggested Drax.

Jemma tilted her head and said, “We’ll keep that option open, but I want to see him try to convince me not to first.”

Ward frowned at her and said, “Simmons, reconsider. It’ll be much quicker to get home if you just let me contact Sif –“

“How long will it take to get to Earth from here? I’m sorry, Terra?” Jemma asked.

Gamora flicked through some images on a screen, alien writing that Jemma could somehow see English superimposed over and said, “Approximately one hundred and seventy eight standard hours.”

Jemma nodded to herself and then smiled at Ward. “It looks like you have a week and some change to convince me not to kill you. Good luck, you’ll need it.”

And with that she stood up and turned away from him. After all, she only had a week left in space and there was so much she wanted to know.

**Author's Note:**

> My writing tumblr can be found [here](http://capriciouswrites.tumblr.com/)! Come say hi and give me a prompt.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!


End file.
